Draco Says
by Elryne
Summary: He was finally going to shut up. He was finally going to lay off. Proud, sneering Draco wasn't going to bother Harry and Ron anymore...in exchange for something that'll drive Hermione insane.
1. Chapter 1: The Letter

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters are not mine. The mistakes are, though. **

_Enjoy! XD_

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><p><em>She had endured him for five years while he went on doing whatever he pleased. She endured everything, she endured <em>him _and his pale, sneering face, for five years. _

_Five years was long enough._

_She wasn't going to tolerate him. She was a prefect. He was, too. But it wouldn't change anything._

_Not anymore._

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><p>Chapter I<p>

**The Letter**

"Malfoy!" The name rang loud and clear, and the one being called raised his head, ever so calmly, his deep blue eyes, alight with malice, now meeting a pair of angry ones as he looked over his shoulder. His burly companions, Crabbe and Goyle, turned and followed his gaze, frowning when they saw who was standing behind them; he, however, smiled, pleased to see her in a fine rage.

"Granger." His voice was smooth and lax, unshaken by her look of purest loathing.

"You… How could you…" said Hermione, her jaw set, threatening to spill out the rest of her ire.

"How could I?" repeated Draco, giving his ridiculing smile. "Yes, Granger, how could I?" he said, mocking her words. She glowered at him, exasperated, and he drew satisfaction from this.

"How _dare _you hex Harry and Ron behind the Professor's back!" she said. The two tall, muscular boys who flanked Draco had not even intimidated her, and she raised her chin, maintaining the look of dignified infuriation.

"Hex Potter and Weasley?" said Draco, raising a thin eyebrow, unimpressed. "Are accusing me again, Granger?"

"I know you did it." Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, so that he grew slightly irritated, and frowned as well.

"You weren't even there to witness what really happened."

"Dean and Neville told me," said Hermione, "and they saw you."

"But _you _didn't," Draco pointed out flatly. Her glare faltered by the slightest at his statement, and his smile returned, dancing derisively across his pale lips. "You can't keep on accusing me without concrete evidence, Granger," he said, turning away with an air of triumph. He looked over his shoulder, his smile widening. "It wouldn't be a _smart _thing to do." His companions smirked and turned away as well.

"_Malfoy!_" There was a sharpness in her voice that made him turn around to face her once more. He froze. She was holding her wand and pointing it directly at him, which made him flinch inwardly; Hermione had not hesitated to smack him back in third year, he remembered. She would not hesitate again. The grip on her wand and the flash of enragement in her eyes proved that.

"You wouldn't dare," he said darkly, his voice taunting her, annoying her, so that she gripped her wand much tighter. Little sparks sprang out, threatening to shoot out a spell, a dangerous one.

"I would," said Hermione, and the chill in her voice almost frightened him. He never saw her in such a fit of rage, the sort that overcame all rationality, the reckless type, so seeing that she bore it right now, alarmed him.

"You're a prefect."

"It wouldn't hurt to break the rules once in a while," she said severely. "And it's quite worth it, really." And she smiled, despite herself.

This unnerved him and his lip curled, an irritated "Tch" escaping. His composure still intact, he managed to reply, "And you'll endanger the whole Gryffindor House just for the sake of a Potty and a Weasel?" He saw her react, her eyes flashing with a look of worry. It disappeared in a thrice, when he smirked.

"Don't call them that," she growled.

"My, you're getting selfish these days, Granger," Draco went on pleasantly, ignoring her exasperation. "Taking advantage of your authority, are you? Being the tyrant now? I must say, Granger, it suits you—"

"And what can you say about yourself?" Hermione shot back, her fists shaking.

"Why, I am but a humble, rule-abiding student," said Draco innocently. The mocking curve of his lips, and his disdainful gaze betrayed his candid expression, which irritated Hermione all the more. But she could do nothing anymore. Though she hated to admit it, Draco was right: if she was caught hexing a student—a _prefect_, for that matter—then she would have to pay at the cost of the Gryffindor House.

Hermione lowered her wand, until it dropped to her side, clenched tightly in the trembling hand. He took it as a sign of defeat and earned himself a withering glare as he smiled his derisive smile, and turned away for the final time.

"It was pleasant seeing you, Granger," Draco said, waving an idle hand as he walked away, Crabbe and Goyle grinning alongside him like idiots.

It was most difficult, but she forced herself to turn away and walk the opposite direction. The best she could do before they parted ways was give him her worst glare.

_The next morning…_

Breakfast was wonderful, never failing to contain the most tasty dishes and delectable treats, and the atmosphere was bright and cheerful, the air filled with laughter and noisy chatters. Hermione ignored the banter around her, and continually stared into space, leaning her cheek into her hand. Her food was hardly touched, her book open, but apparently useless as of the moment, as her mind was elsewhere.

"Hey, are you alright, Hermione?" a concerned voice broke into her thoughts. Hermione recovered from her reverie, and looked at Harry, not missing to see the bandage plastered across the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah," she said.

"Blimey, Hermione," said Ron, who had two intercrossed bandages on his cheek. "You've actually been staring into space for twenty minutes! That's a new record!"

Normally, she would glare at him for his crude jokes. But she couldn't bring herself to get mad at him, not when she saw his wounded face. And so she replied with a halfhearted "Really?" and looked down at her open book, _Confronting the Faceless_, which rested on her goblet of pumpkin juice. Seeing their wounded faces and remembering what happened the previous day pained her, and she felt anger flare at the memory of _who_ had caused them injury in the first place.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Harry.

"No." There must have been something else in her face, because Ron pressed, concern lacing his voice, "You sure, Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron," she said patiently, raising her eyes from the book to gaze at him, "I am. Don't worry, I'm fine."

He looked unconvinced, but said, "Alright" and resumed eating. Harry took this as a sign to be quiet, too and focused his attention on his plate.

The awkward silence among the trio was promptly interrupted when the mail arrived. Owls streamed in through the window by the hundreds, flying here and there in search for their respectable owners and when having done so, drop parcels and letters.

As usual, there came the paper of the _Daily Prophet _from an owl she recognized, but before she could open it, another owl, a barn owl, dropped a letter into her lap, before zooming out through the window with the rest of his companions. Hermione stared at the letter in surprise. She didn't remember writing to anyone, not even her parents. Taking it cautiously, she saw it looked rather fancy because of the green seal. There was a short message elegantly written in front (she thought she recognized the penmanship, but couldn't remember whose it was) and it said in two lines: _Intended only for Hermione Granger; Read immediately. _She quickly took it to her lap and opened the letter carefully. She ignored the curious looks on both Harry and Ron, and read the small parchment, which contained the elegant penmanship. It said in bright, green ink:

_Mudblood,_

_If you badly want to discuss what happened yesterday, meet me in the Slytherin common room at 6PM. The password is 'Parseltongue' .The Potty and Weasel better not know any of this. Come alone._

There was no name of the sender, but she knew that only one person would call her 'Mudblood', Ron 'Weasel' and Harry 'Potty'. She looked past the Hufflepuffs, at the Slytherins, scanning for his pale, arrogant countenance. But she couldn't see him. Her gaze shifted to those closest to her, to Harry and Ron, who instantly felt they were being looked at; they looked at her, silent, but curious still. She tore her gaze away. She wanted to tell them about the letter, but thought better. She could already imagine their shocked faces: _Ron would say, "You're mental if you do what he's telling you!" "He's right, Hermione," Harry would agree in his calm voice. "Don't go. It's for the best."_

But she won't. Suspicious as it was, she knew she had to go and settle matters with Draco Malfoy.

And with that, Hermione Granger folded the parchment, and kept the letter safely in her bag. They didn't ask, but she said to satisfy their curiosity, "My parents. They're worried again." And they did seem to believe her and resumed eating.

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><p><em><em>So there was a prologue in the first part (obviously), so...yeah.<em>_

_This is my second Harry Potter fic; it'll be the first to be extended into chapters…if you'll allow me to. Did I do okay? Thanks for reading, by the way. (Hey, it rhymes! XD) _

_Your reviews please! _**:D**


	2. Chapter 2: The Contract

_Yay! I managed to make people happy. I hope this'll make you happier. Enjoy!_

_Oh, I forgot: **Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not and will never be mine no matter what I do. Mistakes ARE, however, mine. Always will be. ('sucks…)**_

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><p>Chapter II<p>

**The Contract**

Harry and Ron weren't back from their class yet, and there were very few people present in the common room when she entered. It was half past five…thirty minutes to go. And she would be down there in the very core of the Slytherin House—of all the places—very, very soon. It bothered her, and she considered not going at all—it looked so reckless, so irrational and insane. She thought still more; if she wouldn't show up, Draco would think her to be a coward—she simply _won't _ bare the scene when _Draco would smile and say, "So Granger hasn't showed up at all. She's a plain scaredy-cat!" And Crabbe and Goyle would snicker stupidly as he laughed his annoyingly mocking laugh._

Her pride or her welfare? She was caught in a dilemma. It was quarter to six now. Harry and Ron still aren't back. She glanced at the letter again.

_Come alone._

If Draco is planning to do something stupid, he _is _going to regret it, she promised herself. As long as I have my wand, I'll be safe. That alone assured her. She was, after all, intelligent and immensely skilled—it would be easy to outsmart Draco and his dumb cronies if something went wrong. Hermione stood up, sighing, deciding she would go. She was far too distracted to notice that a couple of third years were chewing Nosebleed Nougats and were laughing at each others' bleeding nostrils.

The more she thought of _where _exactly she was going, she would feel her heart pound her chest, and the adrenaline rush in her veins; she reminded herself every so often, it was going to be okay, and her agitation would subside. She tripped a few times on her way down and once or twice, she almost had a precarious fall, because she forgot to jump over a particular step in the staircase. As she drew nearer, she became clumsier; she had stumbled again, and Peeves the Poltergeist had been there to cackle and point at her, before zooming away when she pointed her wand at him.

It didn't last long; she was on ground floor now. But she remembered she had to go _underground_. There were some students walking here and there, but as they weren't Slytherins, none dared to venture any further to the small perimeter where the door leading underground stood. All except for her. She saw to it that no one was watching her, then she slipped stealthily into the shadowy entrance, descending the stone steps until she reached solid ground. And she was alone once more, in the cold, empty hall.

A chill which had nothing to do with the cold ran down her spine. Now that she was here, all the doubts, the fears came crashing into her with much more intensity, so that she stood there like a statue, much more indecisive than ever. _It's going to be okay_, she told herself, feeling the cold seep into her palms. _What is there to be afraid of? He's just Draco. _"It's going to be okay," she repeated, saying it aloud this time. There was nothing scary. She was simply going to meet Draco…in the Slytherin common room.

_I'm already here_, she said firmly, fighting the worries away. _There's no turning back. _She drew in a steady breath, and walked down the corridor. It was silent, apart from the _tack _of her heels as they hit the hard floor. She observed her surroundings warily, eyes darting from one side to the other; the flames flickered rather eerily in their torches, and shadows danced—she gripped the wand in the inside pocket of her robe, ready to draw it if some danger were to come her way. But the hallway was completely empty. She continually strode down the labyrinthine passages, following a straight course, not exactly sure where she was going, but (quite) determined all the same.

A thought made her stop dead on her tracks: _Where _exactly _was the entrance to the common room located? _Of course, she'd known the common room was somewhere in the dungeons—she read it in _Hogwarts, A History. _But its exact location was never directly stated...or was it? Malfoy didn't even say anything in the letter ("The jerk," she muttered). She tried to recall, staring at the floor. She looked up at the wall. A memory flickered in her mind. _No; there was nothing engraved on the door. It would be too obvious. _What was there to do then? There was no sign, no symbol to indicate that the wall could be a door of some sort. An idea lit in her head. It was stupid, really, but she had to try.

Uncertainly, she said aloud without directing it to any particular object, "Parseltongue."

There was the sound of stone grating against stone; to her left, a door concealed inside the slab of rock slid open. She stared at the entrance for a few moments, debating what to do. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, it hurt. She gripped her wand, bit her lip and…well, entered it.

It was a long room, and the lamps dangling from the low ceiling glowed a ghostly green. Ahead, tall-backed seats silhouetted against the bright fire burning brightly beneath an ornately-wrought mantelpiece. _No one's here, _thought Hermione in relief, _thank goodness—_

"Wonderful evening, isn't it, Granger?" said a voice. She froze. She saw someone stand up from the seat directly facing the fire—she could have sworn all the seats were empty. But he was already standing there, watching her.

"I'm here." She tried to sound collected, but her voice betrayed her; it shook. "I…I had a hard time finding my way."

"Well, _that _did occur to me," said Draco—she was sure he saw him smiling—"But I figured you weren't too dumb."

Insulted, she said stiffly, "I'm not."

"Of course you're not." He sounded so smug and cool, it annoyed her. "You're different."

"Yeah, I am," she snapped.

"Now, now, you didn't come here to fight," said Draco coolly. "You're in _my _territory, remember?" Of course, thought Hermione, anger overcoming her fear. You're safe. I'm not. "Come here."

"…What?" Her voice faltered.

"I said come here."

"Why?" asked Hermione insecurely.

"Because we're going to talk; we can't stay _there_—there aren't any comfortable seats, in case you've noticed." This time, he was sarcastic, and her temper, flaring abruptly again, drove her to move forward.

"Sit." He gestured to a chair similar to his. Hermione stared at him.

"I'd rather not."

"Alright then." He smirked, then leaned back into his seat. It annoyed her more, when he propped up his feet on a velvet pouf, and looked up at her with an air of superiority.

She frowned, waiting. "Well?"

"_Well_," Draco began, "you've been accusing me of hexing Potty and Weasel—"

"And you have, haven't you?" Hermione intervened.

"It's almost _difficult _not to," replied Draco sarcastically. He shrugged. "What with them acting so ridiculously—"

"How dare you!" cried Hermione, enraged.

"What a temper you have, Granger," said Draco, unperturbed, even when he saw her grip the inside of her robes. "Daring enough to try and actually attack Draco Malfoy in the _Slytherin common room_." He saw her falter almost instantly, but the anger never left her eyes.

"It's an awfully tiring game, really," he went on, enjoying her look intensify with hatred. "So I've decided to make an agreement."

"To compromise, you mean?" said Hermione, eyes turning wary. "What sort?"

"Oh, I've written it all down. Here." And he handed her a roll of parchment. Hermione took it, watching him carefully, before looking down to read the contents of the parchment. "I've decided not to harm Potter and Weasley," said Draco pleasantly. "Of course, there's always a requirement."

Hermione read everything written down, frowning. For a while, she was silent, but her eyes widened and suddenly she cried, almost startling Draco, "_WHAT?_ _I'll _do thirty things for _you_?" She glowered at him, enraged.

"That's why it's called the 'What-to-Do Contract'," said Draco sarcastically, recovering from his surprise.

"But why was _I _chosen?"

"Well, _someone _would have to pay the price."

"And why me?" she demanded.

"Oh, so you want me to have Harry and Ron—"

"No," Hermione said quickly, eyes softening with anxiety at the thought. "I didn't mean it that way."

"So you will abide to the contract?" said Draco, leaning forward in sudden excitement. Hermione scowled at him. "I'll take that as a 'yes', then," he said, smiling smugly.

"I haven't decided yet," she stated dryly.

"Think about it, Granger," Draco goaded, his eyes bright with malice, "It's worth it, isn't it? Me not having to bother Potty and the Weasel anymore. Not even when we leave the school. And all I ask in return are thirty little…_errands_. That's all." He watched her in interest, observing her combined expression of worry, indecisiveness and irritation. Pleasantly, he added, "The others will soon be here, Granger. Best to make up your mind—you _wouldn't_ want to be here when _they _arrive."

Hermione suddenly looked up toward the door, as if expecting that the rest of the Slytherins would burst in at that very moment. This seemed to play a rather intriguing effect on her. Her eyes hastily skimmed the whole parchment, before she looked back at him resentfully.

"Alright."

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><p><em>I'm sorry if this chapter was long. But I just couldn't remove anything to make it shorter. I'll try to limit the length on the following chapters, so please bear with me!<em>

_A lot of coincidental stuff happened, like Harry and Ron not being there, Hermione being in the exact spot where the stone door was located, and the Slytherins not inside the common room except for Draco. Well, just imagine that stuff had to happen on that same, exact hour so that Hermione and Malfoy could meet in peace. XD_

_I can't guarantee quick updates because…well, vacation's over and I am, once again, forced to school where I am mercilessly hampered by school work._

**Please take note of the ff (This is the last one, I swear!):**

-The dungeons in which the Slytherin common room is situated was never exactly stated in the second book, 'Chamber of Secrets' (p. 220 in paperback)…or perhaps I never completely understood where it was… I think there were also hints in the sixth book, 'Half-blood Prince', but I have only read it once, and I plan to read it again because this is where I based the setting of my fic.

**-**Draco's eyes are **gray**_**. **_I mentioned previously that they're blue, because I was thinking of Tom Felton. But the book says they're like the color of his father's eyes. My friend (a diehard Potterhead) corrected me when she read my fic, so there. She deserves credits, too, because she helped me with the Slytherin-common-room-dungeon-thing.

-And the sentence in Chapter 1: "She looked past the Hufflepuffs, at the Slytherins, scanning for his pale, arrogant countenance" is wrong; it should have been the **Ravenclaws**. The arrangement of the tables if you stood from the teachers' tables in front: at the farthest left are the **Gryffindors**, followed by the **Ravenclaws, **then the **Slytherins**, and lastly at the farthest right, the **Hufflepuffs. **

_I am terribly sorry for the mistakes, and I shall strive to maintain the accuracy of the story. Hope you're not mad. _

_Oh, and your reviews, please! _**:D**


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